


My best, My worst, My Blood

by missmaddie



Category: Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: prompt on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4324098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmaddie/pseuds/missmaddie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the tumblr prompt "something with Mark Blackthorn and Jules" </p><p>Of course you can't have Julian without Emma. Come send me prompts on tumblr runningcirclesaroundsuperman</p>
            </blockquote>





	My best, My worst, My Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Come send me prompts at runningcirclesaroundsuperman on tumblr

Julian felt like he swallowed bees. His throat was swollen shut, his teeth were glue and he'd need a crowbar to unclench his jaw.

Sitting in front of him, strapped down to an iron chair was his brother. 

He was barefoot and bloodied, mud caked under his nails and spread across his delicate cheekbones like war paint. 

Julian had pictured his so many times. Running into his brothers arms and falling into his arms, the last three years melting off of him. He'd never even entertained the thought his brother would be anything then ecstatic to see him.  
Or that his parabatai would have had to knock him out with the hilt of her sword, or he'd be holding off Julian with a dagger.

He'd woken up a little while ago, on Emma's shift. Julian had been asleep in front of the weapon room's door, preventing his younger siblings and uncle from entering. 

"Mark," he forced out, the words scratching up his throat like broken glass. 

The boy in front of him looked like his oldest brother, but Julian couldn't connect the two in his head. Mark had never looked at him with such disgust.

He wanted two things right then. To vomit up everything he'd ever eaten, and a cigarette. Looking at his brother's narrowed eyes made him nauseous in ways he'd never been. Even when Emma and Cameron had briefly forgotten he was in the room. 

His parabatai had stepped up where he had faltered. Cortana was in her hands, a casual threat and she looked every bit an avenging Angel. She stood in front of Mark Blackthorn, the closet thing she had to a brother, and revealed the steel that had long since replaced her will. 

"What's your name?" She does not falter. Julian's impressed. 

Mark Blackthorn was not impressed. 

"Mark Blackthorn, you are Emma Cairstairs and my brother's parabatai. I have know you both since birth. Pick a harder question"

Julian could rule out temporary amnesia. So why wasn't his brother running into his arms while Dru's corny break up mix played?

Emma raised Cortana to Mark's throat and pressed. A dot of red blotted up instantly and Julian swallowed a cry of protest. He had complete faith in Emma.

"I need you to tell me what happened to you after Sebastian's attack." 

She's stoic and robot like and if it wasn't his brother she was interrogating he'd be etching this moment into canvas and be mentally composting this adventure in verse. 

"I'm not saying anything with him in the room." 

Julian feels his heart drop to his knees. He wouldn't have to compose anything. He doubted he'd ever forget this. Or ever not see it whenever he closed his eyes. His eyes that were currently filling up.  
He bit his tongue until his jaw stopped quivering. 

"You don't mean that."

"Leave, Julian" 

"This isn't you, the seelie Que-"

"Get out!" Mark was screaming now, reminding Julian of the teen who would chase him and Emma out of his room. That just made it worse.

"Get out! Get out! Get out!"

He turns desperately to Emma. Her eyes were wide and trained on Mark, who had finally quieted, cheeks were red and was panting. 

Emma turned him and the lines around her eyes were apologizing.  
Her voice however, was colder than the ice floating in his veins. 

"Julian, you need to leave." 

Betrayal hits hard and he grabs the wall behind him to keep from sinking to his knees. He says nothing, feels nothing, is nothing. He turns on his feel and walks out, gut aching. 

He slams the door behind him, falling against it. Tears fall fast, hitting his chin as his knees hit the floor. The walls were soundproof and he has no qualms of shrieking into his palms. 

Emma turns back to Mark, breathing in and biting back a wince as the door slams. 

She drops her sword and as it clatters, her hand collides into his face. She's only midly suprised. Only Julian's pain brought this out in her. 

"How could you! Do you know how long we sp-" 

Mark cuts her off. 

"3 years. I know. You two aren't as subtle as you think."

"You knew?"

"Gwyn knew. He was in charge of the hunt."

"You knew we were looking and said nothing? You sent us a message once- what do you mean was?"

"We were lovers. He died, a crazy werewolf ex." He exhales softly.

"I control the Hunt now." 

"So you can leave"

"It's not that simple, Emma. I can't come back."

"They're not your real family, Mark!' 

Emma couldn't believe this. Her and Julian had been so close and Mark was choosing a power trip over them?

"No," he sighs, "but they did something to me. I'm not like I was. I can't come back. I'm a hunter, now. I can't do that to them, Em. The Hunt isn't my family. Family's sacrifice." 

Emma was shaking. Fire burned in her veins. 

"They lost everyone, Mark. Your dad, your mom, their uncles nothing more than a figure head to reassure the Clave. You have to come back!" 

She was choking on the unfairness of it all. 

Mark blinked back tears. 

"I'm not a shadowhunter anymore, Emma. The clave would never go for it, Julian would Lose the kids, I'm not that selfish. And the hunt would never let me go. We'd have a war on our hands." 

Emma was nearly shrieking. 

"Then we'll fight it! We'll win it. Mark, Julian can't be a dad. It'll kill him."

Pain was evident on Mark's face. 

"It doesn't have to. Please, watch him. Please, Emma. Please do what I can't."

He was crying now and Dammit so was she. Damn Valentine and Damn Sebastian Morgenstern. Damn anyone who would take away Julian Blackthorn's happy ending. 

He sniffed loudly and took several deep breaths. 

"Uncuff me. Let me leave. You know it's for the best." 

She said nothing, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head as hard as she could. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. 

"Tell Julian I tricked you and had you at the point of your sword. He'll believe you. It's for the best, Em."

It's the use of her nickname that gets her. He'd grabbed a glass from the tallest shelf and pour her milk and put down his book with a little sigh and a "sure, Em." Or "alright, Em."

She thinks of her parents as she unties him and as he makes a quick shallow cut with her sword. 

When she and Julian cries into each other's shoulders and she keeps whispering "I'm sorry"s into his hair, he'll feel something off, but the grief will consume any suspicions he has. 

The best always sucked the most, didn't it?


End file.
